


The Waiting Game

by WhiskeyDreams



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Coming In Pants, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time Getting Off Together, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, M/M, Otabek is a tease, POV Yuri Plisetsky, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Voice Kink, Yuri is impatient, taking it slow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:01:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29385261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiskeyDreams/pseuds/WhiskeyDreams
Summary: When they fell onto the hotel bed in a tangle of limbs, their shirts already off, Yuri dared to hope that this was it – he would finally have sex with his insanely hot boyfriend.It didn't take more than ten minutes for Otabek to once again utter that dreaded word:“Wait.”_ _ _Yuri and Otabek are taking it slow. Yuri doesn't like it... at first.
Relationships: Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky
Comments: 14
Kudos: 98





	The Waiting Game

**Author's Note:**

> I'm continuing my quest of working through my ever growing pile of WIPs, and this thing fought me tooth and nail. The initial idea has been sitting in my folder since early 2017. Finally wrote a proper first draft sometime last summer and had vague ambitions of posting it for Otayuri Week 2020, but... deadlines are my nemesis.

When they fell onto the hotel bed in a tangle of limbs, their shirts already off, Yuri dared to hope that this was it – he would finally have sex with his insanely hot boyfriend.

It made his heart jump into his throat and caused his hands to tremble a little, but he thought if he just kept kissing Otabek as aggressively as he did right now, Otabek wouldn't notice. If he noticed, he would certainly try to slow things down again out of some ridiculous and misplaced and totally unwarranted concern which Yuri had lost all patience for over the year they'd been dating. If they continued to go at Otabek's pace Yuri was still going to be a virgin by the time he retired.

Otabek had waited _literal years_ before asking Yuri to be his friend. And then it had taken two more very confusing and annoying years for them to figure out that they actually wanted to be more than just friends. Yuri thought that instead of continuing to go at a snail's pace, they really should be making up for lost time.

And maybe Otabek was finally beginning to see reason, because he didn't stop Yuri from slotting their hips together as they continued to kiss.

This was about as far as they'd gotten before – making out shirtless on the bed, rocking their hips against each other. Even though they'd done it before, it never failed to excite Yuri. Just the way Otabek's tongue wrapped around his own was heavenly; Yuri couldn't get enough of it. But the best part was how Yuri could feel that Otabek was just excited as he was.

And yet, it didn't take more than ten minutes for Otabek to once again utter that dreaded word.

“Wait.”

Yuri let out a growl of utter frustration, digging his fingers into Otabek's arm a little more forcefully than was maybe strictly necessary. Otabek didn't complain, just looked at him with a serious expression that was, in Yuri's opinion, completely inappropriate for their current situation.

“What are we waiting for this time?” Yuri grouched.

“We're still taking things slow, Yura.”

If Otabek thought that adding a kiss to Yuri's forehead would somehow soften the statement, he was mistaken.

“You _do_ wanna sleep with me, right?”

“Yes. But-”

“Then let's fucking do it already!”

“There are a lot of other things we can do that come first, though,” Otabek reasoned, still so fucking calm, as if he hadn't been rutting his erection against Yuri's a moment earlier. Yuri wanted to go back to that moment so badly.

“Besides,” Otabek continued, “We should probably at least talk about it first.”

One of his hands was sliding down over Yuri's ribs with just the right amount of firmness to make Yuri shudder pleasantly – it was ridiculous how distracting a simple touch like that was, but Yuri managed to hold on to his frustration, in no small part because Otabek had stopped moving his hand and was resting it on Yuri's hip, teasingly close to the curve of his ass.

“I don't need a talk about the birds and the bees, Beka,” Yuri snapped, “I know what goes where and all that shit.”

Otabek chuckled at that. “And what would you like to go where then, Yura?”

Caught off guard by the question – and the smirk it was delivered with – Yuri froze, heart hammering wildly. He knew that he was giving Otabek a dumbstruck look that was probably not very sexy.

“I- uhm,” Yuri licked his lips. Why the hell was he expected to spell this out. And why was his mouth malfunctioning now. He spewed dirty and vile things all day long, it shouldn't be this hard to talk about fucking. And yet, all he managed to do was blush so hard he thought his face was going to melt.

He had to say something, though, otherwise Otabek would probably judge that if he wasn't ready to talk about sex, he sure wasn't ready to actually do it, and Yuri couldn't have that.

He squeezed his eyes shut in the hopes that not having eye contact might make this easier. All Otabek wanted to know was who was going to top and who was going to bottom, right?

“I don't care, as long as we finally just do it, okay? We can do it however you like it better!”

There, that was a good answer, right? All selfless and shit.

He felt Otabek lean in, then, and mentally prepared to gently be let down yet again. And he probably had only himself to blame for that.

“You wanted to do this for a long time now, right?” Otabek's quiet voice was right next to his ear, sending a completely unexpected jolt of hot sparks down Yuri's spine. His eyes flew open, glad that by leaning in close, Otabek had solved the whole eye-contact conundrum in a far more elegant way than Yuri had.

“Yes!” Yuri nodded so enthusiastically he almost ended up head-butting Otabek, trying to find the right thing to say to salvage this somehow in case Otabek could yet be swayed.

“Okay, then I would assume you've thought about it for just as long, yeah?”

Again, the rumble of his voice made Yuri's spine tingle pleasantly and all he could do was nod in response. Otabek's hand on his hip started to move again, traveling up his spine in slow, circular motions. Fuck, why did that feel so good?

“What did you imagine us doing, Yura?” Otabek asked next, breath brushing the shell of Yuri's ear. Yuri froze again, aborting his halfhearted efforts to reciprocate Otabek's caresses, fingers twitching nervously where he'd been running them over the smooth skin of Otabek's back. Shit, did he really expect Yuri to answer that? Yeah, he probably did. Fuck. How could Yuri tell him what he had fantasized about? He'd had so many dirty thoughts, even before they became a couple. Where would he even start?

“You don't have to tell me, if you don't want to.”

Oh no, that was the exact same understanding tone Yuri had heard endless variations of 'I don't want to rush things or pressure you' in. Yuri was _so_ over that.

“I- I imagined I blow you.” It wasn't the first fantasy that had come to mind. But it seemed more harmless in comparison to a lot of the others – which made it easier to say it out loud, and was hopefully better suited for Otabek's whole slow-approach-policy.

Yuri was thrilled by the small appreciative hum that came over Otabek's lips, sounding almost a little like a moan. His lips were on Yuri's neck in the next moment, hot and wet, leaving a trail of kisses.

“Did you imagine me doing the same for you as well?”

“Ye-yeah,” Yuri muttered, distracted by the hungry tone of Otabek's voice. Otabek hummed again, pressing a kiss right under Yuri's ear.

“I'd love to do that,” he whispered, trailing more kisses down Yuri's neck that made him shudder and then moan when Otabek sucked on his skin. Fuck. Imagining that mouth on his dick made him twitch desperately in his pants. He pressed his hips forward, seeking the friction they'd shared before, half-expecting Otabek to move away and not allow it while they were still talking.

But Otabek didn't move away. Instead, he took Yuri's breath away by finally sliding his hand onto Yuri's ass and firmly pulling him closer until they were snugly pressed against each other and Yuri could feel that Otabek was still just as hard as he was.

“What else, Yura?” Otabek muttered into his ear.

It was really, really hard to think like this, but Yuri tried. “I- I imagined you'd-” _Fuck_ , Otabek's cock felt _huge_. That made what he was about to say simultaneously more urgent and more scary. “I imagined you fuck me.”

He gasped when Otabek bucked his hips at that, almost as if the words had taken him by surprise, which, really, they shouldn't have.

“Ever fingered yourself?”

Yuri shook his head, then frowned. Maybe he should have done that. In fact, why hadn't he? Probably because just jerking himself was tried and tested and efficient. He'd never wasted many thoughts on any of that before Otabek had somehow flipped a switch inside him and turned him into a horny disaster.

“You could try. See if you even like having something in your ass.”

Yuri's eyes widened. “What if I don't?”

To his surprise, Otabek just smiled and shrugged. “Then you don't. Not everyone does.”

“Do- do _you_ like it?” God, he was blushing again.

Otabek tilted his head, nose wrinkled a little. “Depends. Definitely not a fan of fingering myself.”

Yuri's face fell even more. What if they both preferred to top? What if they weren't compatible?! He hadn't even considered an issue like this for even a second!

“Why are you glaring at me like you're about to bite my head off?” Otabek's tone was amused, but his brows were furrowed and his hand stilled where it had been exploring Yuri's chest.

Yuri shook his head. “I was just thinking- what if we both don't like having something up our asses? Then-”

“I didn't say that,” Otabek smiled, his hand resuming its slow journey over Yuri's skin.

“But-”

“I don't like fingering myself. Or maybe being fingered in general, I guess? There's better things than fingers.”

Yuri was about to slap Otabek's arm for being purposefully deceiving and almost giving Yuri a mini heart-attack, when the implication of what he had said sank in.

“Oh yeah? What exactly?" Yuri asked, playing dumb, because hearing Otabek talk about what he liked was hotter than expected.

“A dick, obviously,” Otabek deadpanned, not giving Yuri the satisfaction of even batting an eyelash, while Yuri could feel another layer of pink dust his own cheeks. He had known Otabek was no virgin, but he'd never wanted to think about that too much. He still didn't.

Maybe Otabek sensed that Yuri's mind was trying to wander down paths that would potentially ruin the moment, because he tugged Yuri closer against him again, rolling his hips, and yeah, that worked; Yuri forgot how to hold on to any train of thought pretty much immediately.

His own dick was twitching desperately every time Otabek's hardness pressed against him. Even with several layers of clothes between them it felt amazing, and Yuri had barely enough wherewithal to not just rut desperately against Otabek, because that probably wasn't sexy, and probably didn't count as 'going slow'.

“I also have a really nice dildo at home that I like to use sometimes,” Otabek elaborated unexpectedly, voice low and slightly breathless, “Last time I fucked myself with it, I imagined it was you.”

Yuri's brain provided a vivid, high-definition image of a naked Otabek lying on his bed in Almaty, writhing in his sheets as he fucked himself. Yuri moaned with his mouth hanging open and his dick leaking in his pants, and he almost came right then and there.

Otabek let out a little laugh and Yuri realized he was gaping at Otabek.

“Too much information?” Otabek asked, sounding both amused and concerned, and Yuri hastily shook his head.

“Fuck, no. Just- You- you'd really want me to-” If he could remember how to form a sentence, that would be just great.

“Yeah. Definitely. I'd spread my legs for you in a heartbeat, Yura.”

Yuri groaned, hips bucking. He'd never expected Otabek – quiet, stoic, Otabek – to shamelessly talk dirty like this.

“Except you wouldn't. 'Cause we're taking it slow.” Yuri was kind of proud of himself for that comeback.

“Mhhm. But when we're doing it, you're not gonna take _me_ slowly, are you, Yura?”

Fucking _hell_ , was he trying to kill Yuri?

“No. Fuck. No, I wouldn't.” He knew he wouldn't. He wouldn't be able to. Just like he had given up on not rutting frantically against Otabek, desperately chasing friction. His only consolation was that Otabek was mirroring each thrust and was breathing just as heavily as he was.

“Gonna take me hard and fast?”

Yuri let out a whine, picturing it. Otabek, under him, naked and beautiful and out of breath. It was a similar image as before, only now Otabek was writhing and panting because of Yuri fucking him into the mattress with rough, impatient thrusts.

The fantasy changed without permission. In the next moment, their roles were reversed, and it was Yuri writhing in the sheets, moaning and whining as Otabek roughly slammed into him. Fuck, he really hoped it would turn out that he was as much into bottoming as the electric tingles the fantasy gave him suggested.

“Beka,” he moaned, “Are you- would you- If we do it the other way round, would you-”

“Would I what, Yura?”

How was he able to talk so coherently while rubbing his dick against Yuri's with such ferocity?

“Wouldyoufuckmelikethattoo?” There, brute-forcing the words out in a rush seemed to do the trick.

In the next moment Yuri found himself on his back, his legs falling open as if on their own accord to accommodate Otabek on top of him.

“Like this?” Otabek snapped his hips, hard. And Yuri's eyes rolled back in his head. It was ridiculous; they were just rubbing their clothed dicks against each other, and yet Yuri had felt that thrust in his core. And the next one, too. God, he was about to come, just like that, just-

Otabek stopped, placing a firm hand on Yuri's hip-bone at the same time to force him to stop moving as well. Yuri let out the most guttural whine a human throat could possibly produce. It only caused Otabek to laugh softly.

Yuri tried to buck his hips, but Otabek's hand remained firm, holding him still. Something about that was also electrifying, but Yuri did not have the patience to explore that right now.

“Beka, why???”

“Because,” Otabek replied with a shit-eating smirk, “We're taking it slow, Yura.”

Before Yuri could draw the exasperated breath he needed to properly voice how utterly fed up he was with this shit, Otabek started to move again, only this time he was rolling his hips agonizingly slowly, making Yuri feel the entire length of his cock - which there was quite a bit of, Yuri thought again, _holy hell_ \- before he drew back to repeat the motion.

“I know you go about things fast and forceful and without patience, but I haven't given up hope yet that maybe I can convince you that some things are worth the wait, and get even better if drawn out.”

God, _that_ again. Although, maybe Otabek did have a point. Yuri wasn't going to lie, he loved the intensity of this. Loved the heavy hand on his hip preventing him from speeding things up, loved Otabek's weight on top of him, loved how the drawn out motions made him tingle in anticipation, loved the slow spread of heat that swept through him every time Otabek rolled his hips.

But it wasn't quite enough. Yuri wanted more. More, more, _more_.

“Keep... keep talking.”

Otabek's brows rose a little. “Thought you weren't a fan of the 'talking' part.”

“No, I definitely am,” Yuri bit out. No fucking way he would wax poetry about how Otabek's voice felt like honey that was dripping all over him, making him want to roll around in it, drowning in the deep, warm sound until it turned him into a puddle as well. But Otabek was giving him a puzzled look, so maybe he needed to explain himself at least a little bit.

“You could probably read me the fucking room service menu and I'd cream myself, Beka.”

A small smirk found its way onto Otabek's lips, but most of his amusement manifested itself in one quirked eyebrow.

“Oh, really?” He turned his head to look over at the table in the corner, where a menu just like the one Yuri had mentioned was sitting next to the phone, “Wait, let me get-”

“Don't you fucking dare!” Yuri dug his fingers into the stupidly sculpted muscles of his arms and slung his legs around him for good measure to keep him from moving away. Otabek looked back down at him with a chuckle.

“I just really like your voice, okay?” Yuri huffed, the words coming out all barbed and defiant, trying to fend off a wave of self-consciousness. What if Otabek thought this was weird. It probably was, wasn't it?

And then another thought popped up, alarming enough that it even distracted him from the swell of Otabek's dick against his own: _Otabek_ was the one who wasn't a fan of 'the talking part'. He preferred to be quiet, or if he absolutely did have to say something, he tended to prepare his words carefully, mapped out exactly what he wanted to convey, and delivered it on fucking point, no word wasted, like a fucking poet or something.

“Forget it. It's stupid-”

“No, it's not,” Otabek interrupted him, shaking his head, “Always tell me what you like and dislike, Yura.”

“Okay,” Yuri muttered, biting his lip, still feeling like he'd only managed to make things awkward all of a sudden, but a slow roll of Otabek's hips was almost enough to distract him from that.

“So,” Otabek drawled, braced on one arm while his free hand lazily traced patterns on Yuri's chest, “Am I getting that menu to read to you or not?” His smirk broke the awkwardness and Yuri chased it away for good by deftly pinching Otabek's ass, drawing a very satisfying hiss from him.

“You fucking stay right where you are,” Yuri growled, “Tell me your fucking grocery list if you really can't think of anything more exciting.”

“Exciting, huh?” Otabek said with a mock frown, as if he had no clue what Yuri could possibly mean by that. It was exactly the kind of needling Yuri needed to be a bit more bold.

“You said we should talk about stuff before we do it. So. Tell me more about what you wanna do. If we're not doing it yet, I wanna hear about it at least.” There. Several full sentences. While Otabek's dick was still pressed against him. Yuri was handling this like a fucking pro.

Otabek let out a contemplative hum, looking down at Yuri as if he was sifting through a mental catalog of all the things he wanted to do to him. Yuri felt like he was burning under that gaze. Otabek's fingers trailed over his chest, rubbing over his nipples, pinching gently, tugging slowly, until Yuri mewled and squeezed his eyes shut and arched off the mattress.

“I can already tell you that I'm going to tease you endlessly. It's so much fun.”

Yuri cracked one eye open to give Otabek a playful glare. “That's the real reason we're taking it slow, huh? You like making me suffer.”

“Wasn't part of it originally, but it may very well be by now, not gonna lie.”

Yuri let out a fake grumble, finding it hard to be upset while Otabek's fingers were still playing with his nipples and his neck was being showered with kisses.

“How- how else are you gonna tease me?” He was kind of proud he was able to keep this conversation going even though he was drowning in sensations.

“I'd fuck you with my tongue,” Otabek muttered into his ear, shocking a wide-eyed gasp out of Yuri, “Lick you open until you're shaking and your legs give out.”

Yuri was tingling all over, vaguely aware that Otabek had drawn back again just enough to observe his reaction, and even though Yuri thought he probably looked like a fish out of water being fried in his own embarrassment, Otabek's expression indicated that he was absolutely enamored with what he was seeing. Fucking weirdo. How did that soft look go along with the filth that had just come out of his mouth. That stupidly pretty, irresistible mouth. That he apparently wanted to put _there._

“Have- have you ever done that before?” Yuri's voice was strained with the effort of holding back the mental image of Otabek doing something so intimate with anybody else, and he couldn't help but visibly sag with relief when Otabek shook his head.

“No. But I'd love to do that for you.”

“Why, though?” Yuri couldn't help but frown. It sounded incredibly hot. But also kind of dirty.

“I really, _really_ love your ass, Yura. I want to worship it any way you let me.”

Yuri sucked in a breath and slapped a hand over his burning face. “Oh my god, Beka. You can't just say things like that!”

“ _You_ wanted me to talk,” Otabek gave back with a dry smile.

“Yeah, but- not like _that_!”

Otabek just chuckled. “Nah, you liked it.”

Yuri's sputtering protest was interrupted by Otabek's mouth descending back onto his throat and for a moment all he could think of was how those soft lips and that wet tongue would feel between his ass cheeks. _Holy fuck_.

“I want to worship the rest of you just as much, Yura,” Otabek whispered, warm breath ghosting over Yuri's sensitive skin.

Yuri belatedly remembered that he was in possession of a pair of hands of his own, and that he should probably use them for more than just clinging to Otabek like a drowning man. He almost laughed out loud at himself – It reminded him of when he had first started to learn choreography and had been too busy paying attention to what his feet were doing that he'd constantly forgotten that he was supposed to move his arms as well. God, he just hoped he'd improve at this whole sex thing just as fast as he had at skating.

Running his hands over Otabek's back, Yuri remembered from the last time they'd done this that Otabek liked it when he used his nails, so his dug his fingers a little more firmly into Otabek's soft skin, his heart leaping in his chest when Otabek responded with a full body shudder and a drawn out moan.

“God, Yura,” Otabek rasped, resting his forehead against Yuri's collarbone, puffs of hot breath brushing over Yuri's chest, “You're driving me crazy.”

Yuri grinned. That was something many people had accused him of before, but never in this context of course, and it had never felt so _rewarding_. It had certainly never before made sparks erupt inside him. He slid one hand onto Otabek's ass, kneading the plump flesh through his sweat pants, moaning when it felt like Otabek was rolling his hips harder in response.

“Beka, ah!” He could have sworn he had intended to actually make an entire sentence, and yet here he was, just moaning incoherently again.

“You feel so good, Yura,” Otabek muttered, apparently having remembered that Yuri wanted to hear him speak, “I bet your dick is so pretty.”

The words went straight to the target of the compliment. Yuri's head swam and his dick was leaking, and he was losing track of what to do with his hands again, but he couldn't help it.

“Gonna feel even better inside me when you fuck me,” Otabek continued, deep voice strained and breathless, and now Yuri was the one who felt like he was being driven insane. He matched every thrust of Otabek's hips, the new rhythm only marginally faster than before but harder and more intense, setting Yuri on fire.

“Beka, there- ah- like that- keep go- hnnng!” He was trying to do what Otabek had asked and tell him when he liked something, but he wasn't sure he hadn't just babbled nonsense. But Otabek understood, and kept their hips aligned just as they were, every thrust pushing his dick against Yuri's _just right_ , making heat pool deep in Yuri's core, rapidly spreading from there, threatening to consume him.

“Beka, I'm- _fuck_ \- don't stop! Don't stop, don'tstopdon'tstop _don'tstop_!”

“I won't.” It was a promise wrapped up in a moan, brushing over Yuri's ear like a caress, vibrating through him, making sparks erupt deep inside. Yuri whimpered through clenched teeth. He was right there, so close, right at the edge, he just- he just needed-

“Come for me, Yura.”

Otabek's voice rumbled through Yuri like an earthquake, making his body seize up and his balls grow tight before he shattered and fell apart, shaking with pleasure.

“ _BEKA_!”

He was dimly aware that he had yelled, and probably made all sorts of other sounds, but it was hard to give a damn while sweet waves of relief flooded him.

Still rocking his hips through the aftershocks, he dazedly looked up at Otabek just in time to see him screw his eyes shut, head thrown back, sucking his lower lip between his teeth to suppress the quiet grunts that wanted to escape his mouth. He was trembling slightly, hips stuttering, brows pinched, a guttural moan coming from the base of his throat before he dropped forward with a heavy sigh, burying his head in Yuri's neck, trying to catch his breath.

Yuri felt breathless all over again as well.

_Holy shit._

That had been the hottest thing he'd ever seen. His dick was trying to swell again just from watching that.

Otabek stirred and pushed himself up on his elbows, eyes heavy-lidded and unfocused, the softest smile on his lips as he looked at Yuri.

Okay, apparently the mind-boggling sights just kept coming. That was fine. Yuri was fine. Not overwhelmed at all.

“Are you alright, Yura?”

“Ye-yeah. You?”

“More than alright,” Otabek smiled, “Although I'm pretty sure you popped my eardrum.”

“Fuck. Sorry,” Yuri muttered, still out of breath and really hoping Otabek was just joking.

“Worth it,” Otabek smirked, then pushed himself off of Yuri to lay down next to him.

Yuri was still trying to process that this had actually just happened. They had just made each other come. It felt unreal. Otabek had pretty much made him get off just by _talking_ , and that was kind of insane.

Rolling onto his side as well, Yuri felt his softened dick shift in his boxers, making him aware of the mess in his pants. He grimaced, then sank into the pillow with a slight groan.

“Wow. That was... a lot.”

Otabek's face immediately changed from looking high as a kite to full-blown concern. “Really? Did we go too far? Shit, I'm so sorry, Yura, I-”

Yuri laughed out loud, facepalming. “No, stupid. I meant...” he gestured vaguely at his mid-section, “The jizz in my pants. It's _a lot_. And it's not very comfortable.”

Otabek gave him a blank look for a moment, then he burst out laughing, which was a very rare sight to behold and Yuri savored every moment of it, warmth pooling in his stomach.

“This was amazing, Beka. We should talk about sex more often,” Yuri grinned.

“Oh, you can bet I'm going to talk dirty to you all the time now,” Otabek promised with a smirk. Feeling quite pleased with that outcome, Yuri moved to snuggle closer against his boyfriend, but the movement made him aware of the cooling cum in his pants again.

“Ew.” He pulled a disgusted face that made Otabek snicker.

“You can go to the bathroom to clean up first, if you want,” Otabek offered, still chuckling.

Yuri was about to playfully suggest they could take a shower together, but something told him that Otabek would just shake his head at that. And he would probably be right. Getting undressed together for the first time for the purpose of cleaning up the spunk in their pants probably wouldn't be particularly sexy. And with the edge taken off, for now, Yuri felt content enough to not try to push things for once.

He would even go as far as to say that maybe, just _maybe_ , Otabek's slow approach might be worth it after all.

**Author's Note:**

> I was _this_ close to calling this "Let's Talk About Sex, Baby", because that's how fried my brain was when I had finally wrestled this thing into submission and figured out an ending. Jeez.
> 
> Kudos and Comments are always welcome <3


End file.
